So help me heal these wounds, they've been open for way to long

I used to be angry at mom for painting a beautiful picture over the reality every time we talk about papa. I don't think its very fair of her not to acknowledge what he put us through.
But then again, when I look up my closet door, saw the random photos of friends and polaroids onboard along with a photo of mom and papa, I realized I have been pretty hypocritical myself. I've picked out the happiest looking one. A candid shot where he sat closed to her and both laughing on his 51st Birthday.

I remember he had 3 exact same cakes that his friends bought. And I stole a photo with the cake, pretending to be my birthday.

Anyhow, what I meant to say is, I didn't pick those formal photos where mom sits and papa stands behind with his hand placed on her shoulder. Or the awkward ones where they are both dressed up and sitting next to each other with fake smiles or rather expressionless faces.

So I guess, just like mom, I think I would rather remember the good times than the bad. Its hard to forget the pain, caused by all the emotional abuse and let go of the anger but I really want to move on.

I want to live on my own, cut off from the past. Possibly forget about him. Maybe thats one of the reasons why I moved to Dubai. Or am so cold to my grandmothers. I know they don't deserve it, and its not fair to mom to be so far away from her daughter. And not hear from her even once a week. But I can't help it.

This is my escape.